Joanna leaves the ship today with her daughter Angela. It is a happy moment for her and sad day for the rest of us that have to say goodbye.
When I first joined the Communications Department one of the key things the organization wanted was sensational stories about patients. The problem is I am not at all medical and have never felt that relaxed in any hospital setting, whatever the country. Despite now having a medical partner and living onboard a hospital ship, the feeling never subsided. I felt awkward on the wards, always in the way, and as though I was intruding on what was now the patients' only place to live. I didn't want to probe them with questions or stick cameras in their faces. I wanted to just leave them to be patients and allow them space to heal.
It was on one of my first trips down to the ward that I noticed Joanna. There was something about her that I couldn't put my finger on that drew me to her. Was it her piercing eyes? Was it her gentle and laid back character? Was it her warm nature that welcomed me and made me feel comfortable after only meeting me once before? Whatever it was I liked her and she became my door into becoming comfortable in the wards.
Thus began my going down once or twice a week to Ward B where Joanna lived. She would insist I sit down on her bed as she knit or we just chatted. I made note of her growing collection of pompoms, knit purses, doilies and other items that she would make and hang from the cupboard above her headboard. By the end she was making crochet flowers, as I struggled to even grasp the crochet needle.
It was from being propped at the end of her bed that I began meeting other patients around her. There was Friend, a talkative and extremely friendly man with an unhealed wound covering his back. There was Bindu, a young woman who was reading late at night by lantern when it accidentally tipped over and set fire to her face. There was Abraham, a teacher and the father of Darling Boy (yes, a real name), a young patient who suffered from burns.
Half way through her stay Joanna's young 6 year old daughter came to stay with her in the hospital. Quite often young children have no one to care for them if their mother is sick. A spare mattress is always set up for young children of patients or parents of young patients. The patient bed is propped up high and the supernumerary person sleeps on the mat underneath the bed. Angela had her own little den under her mom's bed.
Angela is a bright girl who loved to play pairs (remember the game where you lay out all the cards face down and try to make matches by flipping over two a turn?). I have always found that game was aimed at the young developing mind because no matter how hard Joanna and I tried we could never beat her. I remember the same about my youngest sister when she was that age. A 6 year old mind must be at an optimal memory development point! Angela would often accompany me outside to watch me paint and even let me paint her once (although the struggle to sit still was palpable).
Joanna is currently the patient who has been here the longest...several months, at least. She had an open ulcer (a wound that wouldn't heal) on her left foot and underwent a series (the first one didn't take) of skin grafts to protect it. She will now be an out-patient coming in twice weekly for dressing changes.
Alas, with their departure it leaves a bit of an emptiness for me. The spring board from which I viewed the entire ward seems vanished. I will miss them both!
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